After a while, the heaviness in the room softened. The scent of wine drifted between them as they sat together at a low table, the warm glow of the lantern making their glasses shimr. Leiza swirled the dark red liquid thoughtfully before taking a slow sip, her eyes distant.
"I think…" she began quietly, "it's ti to release our tech into the world."
Azzy raised a brow, setting his own glass down. "Isn't it better to wait until after the nation is established?"
Leiza shook her head, her gaze sharp now. "No. Based on historical statistics, once you form a new nation—or even a state—out of political reasons rather than war, the real estate prices soar almost overnight. If I try to stake out a piece of that precious land later, it'll drag unwanted dia attention, and the narrative will spiral in a direction we can't control."
Azzy watched her for a mont, his lips curling into a soft smile. "You're really wise…" he said, reaching across to brush his fingers against hers. Then, leaning in, he kissed her gently once again.
Leiza returned the kiss with a small laugh, her cheeks warming. "Well, I can't claim all the credit," she said. "It's the Odin's Eye."
As she spoke, a flicker of gold glimred at the center of her forehead, and for an instant, a third eye appeared—vertical, luminous, blinking once before vanishing again.
She sighed and leaned back. "There it is again, isn't it?"
Azzy nodded silently, still watching her.
Leiza groaned softly. "While it's given wisdom, sotis it makes feel… unsettling. Creepy, even. To look at myself in the mirror and see it staring back. Most days, I wear a large hat just to feel normal."
Azzy chuckled under his breath and reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Creepy or not, it's part of what makes you extraordinary. The Eye didn't change you—it only showed the world what you already were."
Leiza exhaled slowly, her shoulders loosening. She glanced at him with a faint, amused smile. "You always know what to say."
Azzy's smile deepened as he brushed his thumb across Leiza's cheek. "It doesn't matter," he said gently. "So acquire powers from their parents, so from third parties. The origin isn't important—what you do with it is what truly counts." His hand lingered against her skin, his voice lowering to a whisper. "And by the way, you look beautiful even with the third eye. Nothing creepy about it."
Leiza's heart softened at his words. She leaned forward, and their lips t once again. The kiss deepened, warm and unhurried.
Then—suddenly—Azzy froze. His body stiffened against hers.
Leiza pulled back, blinking at him. "What happened?"
His eyes were distant, as though peering beyond the walls of the room, beyond ti itself. Slowly, he spoke, "I… just had a glimpse of the future. Leiza… I saw us with a baby."
Leiza's breath caught. Her body tensed as the weight of his words settled. "A… baby?" she whispered, stunned. "But how? You're a demigod. That shouldn't be possible."
Azzy's gaze softened as he looked at her, his hand finding hers. "Maybe it is because you are also a divine being. Perhaps… the rules bend for us."
For a long mont, Leiza said nothing. Her mind raced, her emotions torn between disbelief and the quiet flutter in her chest. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a wry smile. "While I do like surprises, the person I am right now… can't afford many of them." She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing her forehead to his. "But if what you saw is real, then let's see where fate takes us. No harm in trying..."
Azzy held her close, the tension lting into sothing tender. Leiza tilted her head up and kissed him again. The kiss grew fiercer, charged with the mix of uncertainty and longing.
The night stretched on. Robes slipped away, and the warmth of their bodies sought comfort in one another. What began as reassurance turned into sothing deeper—an unspoken vow between them, sealed not with words but with closeness.
Outside, the palace was quiet. Inside, only the mingled sounds of their breathing filled the chamber, carrying the promise of a future neither of them could yet grasp.
Two weeks later, the surface of Arcana World's shadow moon glead with silver dust beneath the eternal twilight.
In the heart of the desolate expanse, a circular formation the size of a city plaza pulsed with runes, threads of natural energy weaving through the air like veins of light.
Azzy stepped back from the completed structure, brushing the lunar dust from his hands. His gaze lingered on the array—an intricate masterpiece of divine geotry that shimred with faint starlight. He exhaled softly and murmured to himself, "Yup… it is ready."
Without delay, he walked into the array. His figure flickered in light—and then, in the next breath, he stepped out into the ancestral temple of the Garcia compound. The ancient hall was quiet, its walls lined with towering statues of past clan lords. Moonlight filtered in through the high windows, casting his shadow long across the floor.
Azzy reached into his robes and produced a black orb, polished and faintly alive with spiritual resonance.
Azzy cradled the orb in his hand. "Ti to set this in motion." He poured his aura into it, feeding it with both death essence and soul energy. The orb lit up with swirling shadows before settling into two glowing nodes, each a soul signature.
Almost instantly, the projection shimred, and two figures manifested in the air before him—one, the calm and sharp-eyed Fujiwara Shuichi, head of the Minamoto clan; the other, Neryn Searvale, the elegant Elven King draped in green-gold robes, his presence carrying the fragrance of an eternal forest.
"Azrael Garcia," Neryn greeted with a nod, his voice a lodic echo. "So soon… I assu your preparations are complete."
Azzy inclined his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "The portal array is finished. I tested it myself—it's stable. Now, I will personally visit both your clans to establish matching portals. Once that's done, we can shift our people, our hos, and our roots onto this moon. Our sanctuary will finally be untouchable."
Fujiwara Shuichi's lips curved into a rare smirk. "Efficient as always. No wonder the Death Clan flourishes under your hand. The Tower of Abel and the Olympians will think twice before encroaching when we move our thrones to the sky."
Neryn's eyes glead with a softer wisdom. "The moon itself will beco a new cradle for our triad alliance. But with it cos responsibility, Azrael. We must prepare the people for the shift—politically, spiritually, and socially. The resistance won't co from the heavens alone, but from mortals who fear what they do not understand."
Azzy folded his arms. "I expected as much. Once I've placed the portals in your clans, we'll work on a shared decree to announce the relocation. Until then, secrecy is paramount. Only the inner council must know."
*
A couple of days later;
The morning sun rose gently over the Minamoto Clan village, bathing the rooftops in amber light.
The faint sound of flowing water ca from canals that threaded through the village, and the crisp, disciplined footsteps of clan mbers echoed as they went about their early duties.
Azzy stepped off the portal platform at the village outskirts.
The mont his feet touched the polished stone, a hush fell over the gathered ninja warriors, their eyes locking onto him. He straightened his robes, the edges of his coat brushing against the morning mist, and began walking toward the main hall, where the elders waited.
As Azzy approached, the clan elders stepped forward, bowing deeply in unison.
"Azrael Garcia, Lord of the Death Clan," the chief elder intoned, his voice calm yet resonant. "We welco you to the Minamoto Clan. Your arrival honors our village and strengthens the bond between our clans."
Azzy inclined his head politely, speaking formally. "I am grateful for your warm welco."
A younger ninja from the inner ranks stepped forward and presented a small tray holding a folded scroll and a saké cup. "A token of respect from our council, Lord Garcia. May your ti here be fruitful." Azzy accepted it, nodding and allowing a faint smile.
The procession began, leading Azzy through the winding village streets. Clan mbers lined the paths, so performing martial kata, others demonstrating agility and precision with shuriken and kunai.
Children watched from wooden balconies, their eyes wide with awe. Azzy could see the echoes of discipline in their attitude and movents. He murmured. "Indeed, everyone in this land of ninjas and samurai is quite disciplined. I really wonder why they want to rge with our clan, though..."
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